Now or Never
by Miss Peg
Summary: After season seven, after Paris, Maura doesn't know how she'll cope. Just a simple little one-shot.


**Author Note** **: A little something that a song inspired me to write, so here I am...any prompts/ideas for one-shot stories would be appreciated, challenging things, please, if possible.**

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Paris was over.

The fairy tale very quickly ended when reality set in and murder crept back into Maura's life.

Sitting in a Paris apartment watching people walk along the Seine, she hadn't missed work. She'd missed her colleagues, and the act of helping people, but she hadn't missed the constant drudgery.

Murder.

Death.

Several years of medical school and another fifteen or so years working her way up the food chain until she reached the top. Where was there to go from there?

She'd done what several others had failed to do before her and smashed her way through the glass ceiling of Chief Medical Examiners.

Now she wasn't sure she wanted it anymore.

Jane was gone, and her whole world had changed; crash landed in the most painful of ways.

Yet she hadn't seen it coming.

There'd been ample warning that Jane was going to leave. She prepared to say goodbye, she prepared to make changes to her own life for the sake of her own stagnation. She didn't expect that wanting a change because of Jane's own attempt at something new, was a lie. Deep down, when she really thought about, she just didn't want Jane to go.

She pretended that all she needed was to make a change to her own world, when all she really wanted to do was follow Jane to DC.

But for what reason? Jane was busy with her career. She had slept with Agent Davies before heading out there. Maybe they wouldn't work out, but it didn't really matter. Jane had changed her life, she had moved away from Maura's existence, and that hurt harder than any relationship she could have taken up.

The sun set, illuminating her house in a faint orange glow. She filled her empty glass with wine and swilled it about, watching the liquid spiral until it steadied itself once more.

She had failed to notice how happy she truly was.

Until it was too late.

Paris had been some last-ditch attempt at reclaiming something she couldn't grasp, and for a while it worked. With Jane by her side, and inspiration aplenty, she had everything she could possibly need.

But all good things must come to an end.

Curling up on the couch, Maura closed her eyes and pictured Jane's face; it was a blur. The last few days she'd done everything possible to reform her image and yet she couldn't grasp it.

She was prided as a child, and young adult, for her excellent memory. She won awards in school for spelling, and she left college with a 4.0 grade average. Memories came easily.

Sometimes too easily.

She never forgot the taunting remarks of her playground bullies, or the depth of her lows as a child. She would always remember the look on Garret's face when she called off their engagement, or Edward's when they realised their wedding had been a mistake.

Remembering things was never the problem.

Until then.

She crossed one leg over the other and gulped her wine, knowing instantly that she was going too fast. Alcohol was not the answer. She was a regular drinker, but always in moderation. She prided herself on her carefully measured drinking and only indulged once or twice a year.

Now her glass was nearing empty and the bottle beside her had less than a mouthful in the bottom. She poured it into her glass and drank thirstily, forcing the last bit own her throat.

She swirled the glass in her hand, watching the few droplets of wine spin around the glass.

All Maura wanted in life was someone to care about. It took her most of her life to find someone who really, truly mattered.

She didn't know what she would do now.

How could she live without her best friend?

Without…

…telling her how she really felt.

The glass clattered against the coffee table, her clumsy fingers difficult to use with so much alcohol in her system. She made a mental note not to drive to work in the morning.

Why didn't she realise how she felt sooner? Why wasn't it obvious to her that what she felt for Jane went far beyond that of friendship? Logic told her that it was that old saying, that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone. But she didn't like to believe it to be true. She attempted to value the things in her life long before there was any chance of them vanishing.

Jane was different.

It took such a long time for them to form any sort of connection, even longer for that connection to turn into the depth of real friendship.

Maura never expected it to slide on over the boundary and into more.

Not once, in any of the years together, had Maura thought about a woman in that way. Fleeting thoughts had come and gone in her teenage years, like with most young adults. The possibility of them resurfacing had never occurred to her. Not when every relationship she'd ever had was with a man.

Everything in life fell apart eventually, that was Maura's experience. As a young girl, she felt so hopeful that her relationship with her parents would improve. When it didn't, well, that's when she decided to go to boarding school.

A dream she had that she could find her tribe, meet new people who might just be the ones she clicked with. Instead she was pushed aside by cliques and high school childishness. By college her life had settled down somewhat. Medical school was challenging. Her lack of people skills only came to the forefront once more and she left feeling somewhat dissatisfied by human connection.

Until Jane walked into the examination room one day, her hand over her mouth, looking peaky.

Everything changed.

It was the longest Maura had ever gone with stability, with a sense of belonging.

How did she lose it so quickly?

Nothing was the same anymore. Frankie still worked in homicide. Angela still worked at the bar. But without Jane to go with, she didn't much feel like taking Frankie or Nina up on their offer to join them. She'd always hated being a third wheel, and nothing said third wheel quite as badly as being the seventh wheel to Ron and Angela, Korsak and Kiki, and Frankie and Nina.

It wasn't like she'd ever really been with anyone in their social group. It somehow didn't matter when Jane was by her side. Two singles surrounded by couples was less of a depressing thought.

She fumbled about on the back of the couch for her jacket, until she pulled out her cell and searched for Jane's name. Her photo was everywhere. A tear crept into her eye. Maura let out a soft cry and breathed deeply.

"Hi, this is Jane, sorry I can't…"

She cut off the call and threw her cell onto the couch beside her. They'd agreed on a month. A month without contact to make the transition easier. She didn't know how much more of it she could take. It was too long.

Even when their month was over. It wouldn't change the situation Maura was now in.

She was alone. Again. She might as well have gone backward ten years. Before her friendship with Jane became more than medical examiner-detective.

For the briefest moment, she regretted ever saying to Jane Rizzoli that they should spend more time together outside of work.

Maybe if she hadn't said it then, then she wouldn't be feeling so broken now.

She reached for her cell and opened the Uber app. The screen blurred in front of her eyes. She regretted drinking so much as every letter became a chore to type. Eventually she pressed done and hoped the Uber cab would find her address.

Tidying away the glass and bottle, Maura went upstairs and threw a few things into a case. She took her passport out of her wall safe, wrote a brief, and barely legible, note for Angela, and stood by the door to wait for her Uber.

She had two choices.

Wallowing in self pity, drowning herself in alcohol, it would only seek to hurt her in the long run.

Even if Jane didn't feel the same, what would she lose by going over there and telling her? At least she'd know. If she knew, and it wasn't reciprocated, at least she'd be in no worse state than she was now.

The cab pipped its horn and Maura dragged her case out of the front door.

It was now or never.


End file.
